


What is Santa Claus?

by captain_vegeta



Series: Life's a Dance [2]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Children of Characters, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Implied Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 00:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9048433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_vegeta/pseuds/captain_vegeta
Summary: After an argument with Michelangelo, Donatello goes out into the city to cool off and learns an important lesson about everyone favorite man in red. Part of my "Life's a Dance" series. Contains family fluff and B-team moments. ;)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE! I hope that everyone is having a great holiday season! I know I am. :D
> 
> Thank you so much for stopping by and giving my little story a chance. I really appreciate your time here! Now, this story has been about three years in the making. My dear friend, DonnysGirl87, drew a simply adorable little Christmas themed picture for me back in 2014. I loved it so much that it inspired me to write a story! Well, I held off on writing it because of how much time my main story, Donatello's Strength, takes up. Plus, I only had a vague idea of what I wanted to write. Well, last year, a friend on DA ran a Christmas contest with the central theme of gift-giving and suddenly I had a little more focus. Unfortunately, that was also about the time my life started going sideways so my writing time and energy went straight down the tubes. ANYWAYS! Before I make this any longer than it already is, it took me until literally today (12/25/2016) to finally finish it!
> 
> I'll tell you straight up - it's A LOT longer than I expected it to be. So I have broken it up into three chapters. That way it's not one MASSIVE chapter to read and lose your place on if you have to take a break. ;)
> 
> As the name of the story says, this is another story from my little series, Life's a Dance. HORRAY! I FINALLY HAVE ANOTHER ONE WRITTEN! So, this story has no warnings and is just full of family fluff with a touch of B-team feels. I really hope you enjoy it! If you do, please let me know with a favorite, a follow, and/or a review! I truly love hearing from you guys and it helps keep me going through the darkest of times.

Life's a Dance – What is Santa Claus?

"How about now?" Donatello asked as he peeked out from behind the TV.

Michelangelo let out a heavy sigh before kicking back in the beanbag chair, stretching his legs out in front of him, and placing his hands behind his head. "Nope. Still nothing but snow, dude."

Donnie hummed as he sat back on his heels again so that he could examine the back of the TV. "And you swear that you didn't touch anything back here?"

"On my life. Trust me, bro. After the chewing out you gave me the last time I mess with it, I know better!" Mikey answered with a laugh.

The purple clad turtle made an amused snort. "Never stopped you before," he muttered to himself.

"You think it's the coaxial cable, Momma?" piped up a little voice to his right.

Donnie grinned down at the boy kneeling beside him. "I'd say it's the most likely culprit." He reached down to run his fingers through his son's sea foam green mane. "Nice thinking, Lewis," he praised, making the boy's ears perk forward and a wide gap-toothed grin spread over his face.

"Shall I go ahead and get a replacement from your workshop?" Kaiya offered from where she stood beside Donnie's left shoulder.

"That would be great. Thank you, sweetie." His eldest nodded sharply before trotting off to fetch the item, her forest-green mane and tail trailing behind her.

"Isn't there any way I can help too?"

Donnie looked over the TV at the middle member of his triplet set. Hikaru sat on the couch with her legs drawn up to her plastron and her forearms resting on her knees. "What are you talking about, sweet pea?" he questioned before dipping back behind the TV. "You're already helping."

Her shoulders sagged and she lowered her head so that only her hazel eyes were visible above her forearms. "Yeah, by staying out of the way," she mumbled.

"No," he reproved while raising a single forefinger above the TV so that she could tell that he was addressing her. "By being our eyes. Lewis and I can't work on the connections back here and see how the TV is reacting to what we're doing at the same time. We need someone to be paying close attention to the screen for us." Donnie peered back over the TV. His eyes aimed just to the left of where his daughter sat. "And we can't very well trust your Uncle Mikey to do that, now can we?"

Michelangelo twitched out of the little snooze he'd started drifting into at the mention of his name. "Huh! Wha?"

What could be seen of Donatello's face over the TV became deadpan. "Thank you for making my point, Mikey."

Hikaru blinked in surprise before the corners of her mouth twitched up at the sheepish grin her uncle offered her mother. When Donnie lifted his eyes to the ceiling with a weary sigh, she couldn't stop a soft giggle from slipping out. A flash out of the corner of her eyes pulled her attention to the TV screen. Her face split into an excited grin. "Momma! Momma, it flickered!" She shifted her posture so that she could kneel on the edge of the couch. "The static flickered just now!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! I could see the station we're on, but it was only for a few seconds."

"Now we're getting somewhere," Donnie said before ducking behind the TV once more. "Do what you just did again, OK buddy?"

"Hai!"

"There!" Hikaru shouted as the static on the TV screen finally cleared to reveal the channel it had been obscuring. "The static's gone!"

"Bingo. It is, indeed, the coaxial cable. I'm willing to bet that the BNC connector's gone bad." The screen returned to static, but this time it was on purpose. Donatello sat back and examined the end of the cable carefully. "It won't be a problem to fix, but it's faster to replace the whole cable. I can always use the repaired cable somewhere else."

He smiled when he heard the light clip-clop of his eldest daughter's hooves as she hurried back into the living room. "Your timing is impeccable, Kaiya-chan." The little turtle/horse hybrid grinned as she handed him the new cable. Within a minute, the static was banished from the TV and everything was working order once more. "See, Hikaru-chan?" Donnie said while he exchanged a fist bump with Lewis. "Never underestimate the importance of careful observation in troubleshooting!"

Hikaru blushed and ran her hand over her smooth head so that she could rub the back of her neck. "Hai, Momma."

Mikey eagerly scooped up the TV's remote and grinned from ear to ear at Donnie, Kaiya, and Lewis as they approached. "So what are we gonna watch?"

" _Through the Black Hole_!" Kaiya crowed while plunking herself into Mikey's lap and snuggling into his plastron.

"I'm good with whatever's on public broadcast," Lewis softly suggested as he clambered up the couch to settle on Hikaru's left.

"Nuh-uh! You guys already had your nerdy fix from _fixing_ the TV. I'm talking about something FUN!"

The three kids looked at each other unsurely for a moment before Hikaru raised her hand. "The NYCB is supposed to be televising a production called _The Nutcracker_ tonight," she offered hopefully.

Mikey goggled at his little niece. "Why would you want to watch something like that?!" He yelped when Donnie smacked him upside his head.

" _The Nutcracker_ is a ballet, shell brain," the taller turtle scolded.

"OH! Whew! Had me worried there for a bit!" Mikey laughed. He watched Donnie roll his eyes at him before sitting down on Hikaru's right. When the child shifted so that she could cuddle against her mother's side, a tender smile melted the irritation from Donnie's face. Mikey had to grin at how easily those little munchkins could turn his brother into putty. "I think that will do the trick, Hikaru-chan. What time does the show start?"

"Eight o'clock."

"Awesome! That means we have just enough time to catch something else too." Mikey closed his eyes as he beamed with glee. "And considering what day it is, I know just the show!" When he opened his eyes again, he was blown away by the triplet's blank looks. "You guys do know what day it is, right?"

"Of course, Uncle Michelangelo!" Kaiya answered him, sounding a little put out, before sagely declaring, "It's December 24th."

Mikey waited for her to continue. When she didn't, he prompted, "And it's important because…"

Her eyes widened at this before she became thoughtful. "Because…it's the 358th day of the year?" she finally said, though her tone was more questioning than answering.

"The 359th if it's a leap year!" Lewis added sunnily.

"And that means there are only seven days left until the end of the year," Hikaru chimed in as well, even going so far as to raise a forefinger to mimic her mother's lecture pose.

"It's special because it's Christmas Eve!" Mikey blurted out.

The children looked at their uncle in complete confusion. "What's so special about the day _before_ Christmas?" Kaiya asked while arching a skeptical eyebrow.

"Hello! Santa Claus?!"

"What's a 'Santa Claws'?" Hikaru asked as she looked at her siblings, who looked equally baffled.

"Santa Claus, spelled C-l-a-u-s, is a secular mythological figure that is known for delivering gifts to well-behaved children," Donatello began, drawing the kids' immediate and rapt attention. "His modern form came into existence largely because of a poem written by Clement Clarke Moore in 1822, called _A Visit from Saint Nicholas_ and later renamed _The Night Before Christmas_. In the poem, Moore describes an individual that is a fusion of the 4th-century bishop Saint Nicholas and Sinterklaas who is the Dutch version of Saint Nicholas only with a bit of Odin, the pagan god of Yule who flew through the sky on an eight-legged horse named Sleipnir, thrown in."

Mikey could only sit there with his jaw hanging open as Donnie spoke. It was one of the few times in his life where he was utterly speechless. "DUDE!" he yelped once he'd found his voice again before glaring at the taller turtle, "You, seriously, fail at being a parent!"

"W-what?" Donnie stammered while giving his brother a series of startled blinks. "What did I do?"

"What did you do!? You just told them that Santa Claus isn't real!"

Donnie's eyes narrowed and his tone picked up a definite chill. "Because he isn't real, Mikey. He's a fantasy."

"That's not the point, bro!"

"And what **is** the point!? That I'm supposed to hide the truth from my children?"

"WHY NOT!? YOU ALREADY DO!" Three little voices gasped and Mikey immediately regretted his words. He watched the shock on his older brother's face become wounded before it twisted into smoldering anger. "Oh jeez…Donnie…I-I didn't mean t-"

"You know what, Mikey," Donnie interrupted as he stood up, straightening to his full six-foot-three height so he could tower over the shorter turtle. His brown eyes were daggers pinning his little brother to the spot. "You go ahead tell them all the lies you want," he hissed before he walked up the couch and left the living room.

Without another word, he stormed towards the bedrooms. He heard Mikey trying to call him back, but he blatantly ignored his little brother. Donnie knew he was too angry to talk rationally right now and he always tried to avoid fighting with his brothers in front of the triplets. He needed to cool off and nothing would do that better than a run across New York City in December.

He marched into his bedroom, pulled open one of the drawers to his dresser, and began to suit up. Typically, Donnie and his brothers' kept their clothing to a minimum. Their shells made anything more than their standard gear feel silly. However, the harsh cold of wintertime demanded that they wear more or risk losing fingers and toes to frostbite. Or worse – death by hypothermia.

Donnie had just finished putting on a pair of the boots that he'd specially designed to suit oversized turtle feet when Master Splinter approached his doorway. "Donatello? Where are you going?"

"Out," Donnie snapped without thinking and instantly winced. He didn't need to see the stern disapproval on his father's face to know it was there. "I'm sorry, Sensei," he murmured after he'd taken a slow, centering breath and turned to meet Splinter's gaze. "I'm just...irritable right now. I didn't mean to take it out on you." He waited for Splinter to nod his forgiveness before continuing. "I'm going on patrol so that I don't lose my temper any more than I already have."

"Leonardo and Raphael are already on patrol, my son."

Donnie resisted an exasperated sigh as he plucked a purple hoodie out of the drawer. "Then I'll hit the city's hot spots. They can never be checked too often."

The ninja master contemplated his second youngest while Donnie wormed his way into the last piece of his winter attire. "Perhaps you would be willing to run an errand for me instead?"

The purple clad turtle stopped adjusting his clothes to stare at his sensei. It wasn't every day that Splinter asked them to do something for him, after all. "Of course, Master Splinter. What do you need?"

"Earlier this month, I asked Murakami-san to order me a special blend of tea from Japan. It should have arrived by now."

"And you would like me to pick it up for you?" Donnie finished for the ninja master. When Splinter nodded, Donnie allowed a bit of a smile to reach his face. "No problem, Sensei. Consider it done."

"Thank you, my son."

\-------

Dragon Gate glistened silver in the city's lights thanks to a fresh deposit of snow. Light, fluffy flakes continued to meander down from the sky. A couple of particularly fat ones came to rest on Donatello's nose. He crossed his eyes so he could watch the delicate fractals dissolve upon contact with his body heat. Ever since he'd first seen snow, Donnie had been fascinated by the geometric uniqueness of the little ice crystals. They were just so beautiful. He could watch them for hours.

Too bad it had to get so dang cold for it to snow! The turtle shivered against a flurry of wind that bit at him through his hoodie, making him wish he'd had the good sense to wear another layer. But then again, that would have defeated the purpose of going out into the city to cool off. Another gust whipped around him, convincing him that he was 'cooled off' enough. He grabbed the edge of his raised hood to wipe the wet vestiges of snow from his face before resuming his journey across New York City's rooftops.

It didn't take him long to arrive at his destination. Even less time to get to the door. When he stepped inside, the shop's bell announced him with its delicate chime. "Hello, Donatello-kun!" Mr. Murakami greeted from behind the counter. "It has been a while."

Donnie blinked in surprise before smiling and shaking his head. "One of these days, I have got to ask how you know it's me before I say a word."

The blind man laughed while adjusting his sunglasses, "And one of these days, I may tell you." The turtle made a light chuckle as he approached the bar that ringed Murakami's kitchen area while pushing down his hood. "What can I do for you, my friend? A batch of pizza gyoza, perhaps?"

Donnie's cheeks acquired a bashful blush at how well the human knew him and his brothers. "As appealing as that sounds, I'm here to pick up some tea for Master Splinter?"

"Ah yes! It came in just this morning," the chef said before walking over to the far right of his kitchen. He lifted up the counter door so that he could leave the kitchen and head to the back of the shop. "Please, sit. I will get it for you."

Donnie did as the elderly man asked of him, folding his arms over the countertop as he did so. "Is your family well?" he called after the old man.

"Very well!" Murakami answered. Pride radiated from his voice. "My daughter-in-law gave birth to a baby girl just two weeks ago."

"Congratulations!" Donnie beamed and propped his head up in his hands. "How many grandchildren does that bring you to now?"

"Six."

" _Six_!" Donnie yelped. "That's amazing! I can't even imagine how busy you must be with so many!"

Murakami laughed as he returned to the front of the shop with a box. "Oh, I am busy, but not quite that busy. After all, they are my _grand_ children. I only have the responsibility of spoiling them. Their parents are the ones tasked with raising them." He held the box out to Donatello. "Speaking of such things, how have your children been faring? They are three. No, four now?"

Donnie chuckled as he took the tea. "Try five, Murakami-san."

"Five years old," the elderly man murmured softly before shaking his head. "Time truly does fly like an arrow."

"Indeed it does," Donnie agreed with a fond smile.

"I hope that one day I get to meet them."

Donnie's smile faded into guilt, "You will, Murakami-san. I promise! It's just that…" he looked away for a moment, "…they're not ready to come to the surface yet."

His human companion chuckled and rested a hand on top of one of Donnie's comfortingly. "I assure you, my young friend, I do not feel slighted. When my wife had our first, her cautiousness was so great that I feared the boy would live his whole life indoors. And she did not have the concerns that you do." He patted the turtle's hand. "Do not fret. I know that one day Mother Bear will feel comfortable enough with the world to allow her…to allow **his** cubs to explore it."

The purple clad turtle sighed in relief even as he felt his cheeks warm at the comparison. "Thank you for understanding, Murakami-san."

Mr. Murakami's smile then became more lighthearted. "Tell me," he started as he moved to return to the back of the shop, "Do you children enjoy coloring books?"

Donnie cocked his head to the side. "Honestly, I don't know. The ones I tend to find are already filled in. And even when I manage to find an unused one, it's typically so damaged that it is beyond repair. Paper bound books do not fare well in dumpsters. Why do you ask?"

The old man returned carrying a small stack of soft backed books with brightly colored covers. He held the books out to the mutant turtle, "Merry Christmas, my friend."

"Murakami-san," Donnie breathed before shaking his head. "No, I can't accept this. You've done so much for my family and me already."

"And you four have done far more for me. I would not be here if it were not for you," Murakami gently countered while pressing the books into Donnie's hands. "I insist."

Donnie stared at the coloring books and brushed his thumbs over the topmost one's cover while trying to swallow around the emotional knot building in his throat. "Thank you," he whispered, bringing a satisfied smile to his dear friend's face. After taking a moment to collect himself, Donnie cleared his throat and said with a soft laugh, "I had no idea you were Christian."

"I am not."

Donnie's head snapped up, his eye ridges drawing together. "Then…why…"

Murakami only smiled more at Donnie's confusion. "Because I have learned that there is an ideal at the center of every holiday that is worth celebrating. No matter what faith you believe in." Donnie fell into a pensive silence that was only broken when the shop's clock chimed. "Ah!" the old chef exclaimed. "It is time to close up for the night. I had no idea it was already so late. "

The purple clad turtle blinked as watched the human turn off the shop's sign. "You're actually closing the 24/7?"

Mr. Murakami let out an amused chuckle. "It is a tradition of mine to close early on Christmas Eve so that I can help out at the shelter on Lafayette."

"Ah," Donnie drawled in understanding before a small, slightly sad smile touched his lips. "That is truly awesome of you, Murakami-san. I'm sure that the people there appreciate all your help."

Murakami nodded. "And at this time of year, it is especially difficult for them to find help. They can use all that they can get."

"I imagine so."

The chef stopped closing up to turn his sightless eyes to Donnie. He didn't need his improved hearing to catch the melancholy tainting the mutant's voice. After listening to the light rustle of pages as the turtle idly flipped through the coloring books, Murakami gently asked, "Would you like to join me, Donatello-kun?"

The offer startled Donnie. "Very much so," he began eagerly. However, his mind didn't allow his enthusiasm to last. "But," he paused to look at one of his three-fingered hands sullenly, "I would only cause a panic."

Murakami hummed thoughtfully while scratching at his chin. He tended to forget that others would fear his friends because of how they looked. It was a prejudice that he was glad he never had to get over. He couldn't even begin to imagine how different his life would be without those four turtles…those four men…in it. If only there were a way to blind others to Donatello's appearance as he was. An idea popped into his head. "I think I might have a way around that."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI! Welcome to chapter two! Thank you so much for sticking with me. I really appreciate it! :D If only there was a way to digitize hugs, I'd send one to each and every one of you!
> 
> This chapter has some funny moments...and may or may not hit some feels. I know it did with me while I was writing it, but then I'm a bit of a sap. ^^; I hope that you enjoy your time here! If you do, please don't forget to send kudos, bookmark, and/or comment! I really do want to hear from you! I like hearing about what your enjoyed and what you feel I could improve on!
> 
> Thank you so much for your time and attention! :D

 

 

 

"Thank goodness Mikey isn't here. He'd be laughing his shell off," Donnie thought, unable to keep an embarrassed flush from painting his cheeks. "Are you sure this will work, Murakami-san?"

"I do not see why it wouldn't. You were sure to cover yourself completely, right?"

"Well, yeah…but-puh!" he interrupted himself to spit out some of the downy beard-mustache combo that had drifted into his mouth. "But I just don't see," he looked down at one of the faux-fur trimmed red mittens covering his hands, "how I can blend in with _this_ get-up."

Murakami laughed as though Donnie had just said the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "Santa Claus is not supposed to 'blend in,' Donatello-kun."

"I suppose that's true. And I do have to admit that I'm impressed with how well this suit hides my appearance," Donnie replied, pausing in front of a store window to check his reflection. The pants with their matching overcoat comfortably accommodated his shell and the mittens made his hands seem almost normal. Even though the outfit's boots had been a definite no go, his homemade ones didn't look so out of place that they would arouse suspicion. Meanwhile, the hat with its extra wide faux-fur trim and the large fluffy beard made it so that the only visible part of him was a small rectangle around his eyes. He had opted to keep his mask on because the tiny strip of exposed green skin seemed to glow when surrounded by so much white. At least this way, he could always say that he had a skin condition. "Give me a bell and I'm ready to stand on a street corner and collect charity donations.

"But," he persisted while he adjusted the bag that Murakami had asked him to carry into a better position on his shoulder and broke into a jog to catch up with his human companion. "I don't understand how dressing as a mythological character could possibly be helpful at a homeless shelter."

The old chef stopped outside their destination and gave Donnie a gentle smile that carried a trace of sadness, "You soon will, my young friend." Without further delay, he opened the service door and stepped into a kitchen area.

"Teruaki!" a man who appeared to be in his mid-forties greeted them with a smile that was both friendly and relieved. "So glad you could make it! We were beginning to worry that we wouldn't be seeing you this year."

"Ah, I am sorry, Thomas-san," Murakami replied as he extended his hand for the other man to shake. "I had an unexpected but welcomed delay." He gestured back to Donnie, who immediately stiffened up when the other human laid eyes on him. "This is my dear friend, Hamato Donatello. I asked him if he would like to help us this evening."

"N-n-nice to meet you," Donnie stuttered while waffling between offering a handshake and bowing to the human for a few moments before settling on the handshake.

Donnie's awkwardness made Thomas' uncertain face quirk into a bit of smile as he accepted the hand. "Hamato _Donatello_?"

"M-my family is a mixed one," Donnie explained with a sheepish smile.

"With a name like that, I'd say a very mixed one."

Donnie chuckled even as he couldn't help but think, "Oh, you have no idea."

"Well, Mr. Hamato…"

"Please, call me Donnie."

Thomas' smile started becoming more relaxed. "Donnie. I am Thomas, the shelter's director. Thank you for taking time out of your day to give us a hand."

"It's no problem at all. What can I do to help?"

Thomas' smile blossomed into an entertained grin. "Come with me," he said as he walked away. Donnie looked confused but followed. Thomas opened a door on the other side of the kitchen and gestured for Donnie to go through. The disguised turtle's confused eyes became a touch uneasy, but he did as Thomas requested.

Once on the other side of the door, Donnie's breath caught in his plastron. Five twenty-five foot long tables stretched out before him. Humans of both sexes filled each one as they ate what appeared to be a cafeteria styled version of the traditional Christmas dinner. Having lived in New York City his entire life, Donnie had seen his fair share of homeless people, but never so many in one place.

He froze when several of them stopped eating to look at him. Some of them merely turned back to their meals. One especially scruffy man scowled at him with such venom that he began to question how good an idea this had been. However, more than he expected began to smile. He didn't have time to puzzle over their reaction because he nearly jumped straight out of his shell thanks to a sudden squeal of, "SANTA CLAUS!"

Donnie focused on the cry in time to see a little girl, no older than four years old, spring up from the table and begin racing over to him. Before he knew it, a drove of children that he hadn't noticed on his first sweep of the tables joined the little girl's charge. They were as young as three and as old as nine. A quick second glance at the adults revealed more children from teenagers all the way down to babies who hadn't even had their first birthday yet.

His heart clenched at the sight of each them. Even though he'd logically known that a percentage of homeless people had to be children, Donnie had never seen any before now. As he watched them flock to him, he suddenly understood what Murakami-san had meant. He blinked away the burning sensation in his eyes. Then, he gave everyone a broad smile and went down on one knee in time for the first little girl to wrap her arms around his neck. "Why, hello there!"

"I knew you'd come, Santa! I knew you would!" she cried as she buried her face into the fake beard with such vigor that Donnie feared for a moment that she'd pull it off.

"Of course!" Donnie proclaimed while letting out his best belly laugh. He scooped the little girl up with one arm and stood up. "I would never let you down!" After a quick look around the rest of the room, he spotted where he was expected to go: a simple chair sitting next to a neatly decorated tree that was about nine inches shorter than him. He waded through the rest of the children, patting a few of them on the head as he went, and made his way over to the chair.

Once there, he set the bag that he'd almost forgotten he was carrying beside the chair, settled into it, and placed the girl on the floor in front of him. "Now," he started as he untied the bag. "Let's see what we've got in here!" The bag was full of toys: plastic vehicles, stuffed animals, dolls, storybooks, and even baby toys like rattles and teething rings. Donnie made a mental note to get Mr. Murakami to tell him how much had been spent on this so that he could scrounge up at least half the cost.

For the next couple of hours, Donnie passed out the toys to the eager children all around him. He spent time with each of them, learning more about them so that he could be sure to pull out something they would like. Many of them looked at what he gave them as though it were a priceless treasure, making his heart feel like it would break. Once all the children around him were playing, he peered inside the bag and saw that there were still plenty of toys inside.

He scanned the tables again, locating the children that hadn't come to him. Ones that were too young to come over on their own or were too shy to approach this strange man dressed all in red. Or those that had decided they were too old for something as silly as Santa Claus. Donnie's eyes shone with his smile as he stood up, shouldered his bag, and headed for the tables. He sought out every child he could and made sure each one got a special visit.

After he'd finished in the dining area, he left to check the sleeping area for anyone that he might have missed. It wasn't long before the building resonated with the laughter of children. Their joy was infectious and Donnie marveled at how it drove away the somber cloud of defeat that hung over many of the shelter's adult tenants. Soon, the evening was alive with such merriment that Donnie couldn't help but get caught up in it. Even the scruffy man who had given him the evil eye when he'd first arrived had a small smile for him the next time their eyes met.

The hours passed so quickly that Donnie found himself giving the wall clock a double take when he saw that it was half-past nine. He had just finished trading parenting mishaps with the mother of a three-month-old and was about to head back to the dining room when he spotted him. The little boy was sitting on the floor away from all the other children with his knees drawn up to his chest. Donnie could tell that somehow the little guy had been missed. Perhaps his family had only just shown up?

Regardless of the why, it was an unacceptable oversight that Donnie intended to correct. "Hey there," he opened with as he crouched down in front of the child. The boy looked up with a jerk, surprised that someone had come over to him. "May I ask what your name is?"

The boy shifted a little bit before looking away from Donnie. "Marquis," he murmured.

"Hi, Marquis," Donnie said with a gentle smile. "How are you?"

"OK."

"May I sit with you?" Marquis said nothing for several minutes. When it became clear that Donnie wasn't going away any time soon, the little boy gave him an ambiguous shrug. Donnie took it as a 'yes' and plunked himself down next to the child. The two of them sat together quietly for several minutes before Donnie spoke again. "Everyone sure looks like their having fun, huh?" The little boy didn't look at him but made a quiet nod in response. "What's your favorite thing to play with?"

"My daddy's truck," was the subdued answer. "He gave it to me before he had to go away."

"Oh," Donnie replied while trying not to wince. "That means it's a very special truck. Very precious." Marquis nodded. After a long pause, Donnie ventured again. "Did something happen to it?"

Marquis pulled his legs tighter to him. "One of the big kids at school was saying mean things about my mom. Told him to stop, but he just laughed and shoved me. That's when Daddy's truck fell outta my jacket," the boy murmured miserably. "He stomped on it."

A surge of anger ran through Donnie, but he managed to keep it from showing. "That was an awful thing for him to do." The boy only gave him a doleful nod. He allowed them both to sit in silence again while he watched Marquis try to keep the tears in his eyes from falling. Then he quietly asked, "Do you still have your dad's truck?" The boy looked up at him in surprise but nodded unsurely. "May I see it?"

Marquis reached into his jacket's pocket, pulled out a little yellow dump truck, and warily placed it in Donnie's outstretched hand. Donnie gave the toy a slow, careful inspection. One of the cab doors had been broken off. The dump bed had been snapped off the back as well and was bowed inward like a crushed soda can. He could tell by the extent of the damage that if the toy had not been die-cast, there would've been nothing left to salvage.

"Little jerk sure did a number on this," he wanted to say but kept it to himself. Instead, he murmured, "Let's see what I can do." He pulled out a mini toolkit from the pocket of his overcoat, silently thankful that he'd had the forethought to take the kit out of his gear, and began to work.

It was slow going at first. His mittens were quite a hindrance. He had to resist the temptation to take them off. However, he managed to compensate for them and soon had the cab door back in place.  Then he got to the business of straightening the walls of the bed again.

While he worked, he sensed movement beside him. Little hands rested themselves on his knee and he spared a brief glance at Marquis. The child stared at the toy in his hands with utter amazement written all over his face. Donnie smiled before returning his focus to the task at hand, his tongue unconsciously pressing itself to his upper lip as he did so. After several long minutes, Donnie reattached the bed to the rest of the toy. He tested both repaired parts to make sure they were in working order once more before offering the little truck back to its owner. "There you go. Good as new!"

Marquis could only gape for a few moments before he took the toy. He looked it over as though he couldn't believe his own eyes. Then, all the sorrow and confusion on his face evaporated into a huge grin. He threw himself at Donnie, hugging the disguised turtle around the neck with every bit of strength his little body had. "Thank you, Santa!" he cried before getting up to race over to a woman who sat on a nearby cot. Donnie had felt her eyes on them ever since he'd approached the boy. "Look, Mom! LOOK!" Marquis excitedly shouted while waving his beloved toy at her, "Santa fixed Daddy's truck!"

"He sure did, baby," Marquis' mom said with a shaky smile as she wrapped her little boy into a tight bear hug. From over her son's shoulder, she looked straight at Donnie, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and mouthed, "Thank you."

Donnie felt his eyes widen. Then, a gentle smile spread onto his face and bowed his head to her. He watched her kiss the Marquis' forehead before coaxing him into bed. It was then that Donnie noticed how the shelter's volunteers were encouraging everyone else to start doing the same. "I guess it's time for 'Santa' to make his exit."

He was just about to get up when his eyes stumbled upon the little girl who had greeted him at the start of the night. She watched him with an enormous grin from where she'd cocooned herself in her quilt. That was when he decided that it wouldn't do for him to simply walk out. He returned her grin, winked, and waved goodbye just before a couple of adults walked in front of him. In the brief moment that he was hidden from her view, he used his ninja training to vanish without a trace. From just outside the sleeping area, he heard her gasp and then whisper in delight to the little boy in the cot next to hers, "I told you he was the real one!" A fond smile stretched across his face as he turned to make his way back to the cafeteria.

"We were wondering where you'd gotten to," a cheerful voice called out when Donnie walked into the nearly empty eating area. He looked in the voice's direction and saw Thomas approaching him with Mr. Murakami trailing after.

Donatello's throat went dry. "Was I not allowed to leave the cafeteria?"

Both men laughed at his nervousness. "That is not it at all," Murakami assured. "Most new volunteers do not feel comfortable enough to venture far from the dining hall on their first visit." Mr. Murakami's smile became a more knowing one. "But then, I should have expected you to not be like most newcomers." Donnie felt his face warm and he sheepishly rubbed his neck.

"I was just telling Teruaki how glad I am that he asked you to join us tonight," Thomas said with a gentle smile. "You had people laughing tonight that I haven't seen smile once the entire time they've been with us. And believe me, for some of them, that has been a very long time. Thank you." Donnie felt his face heat up more and he turned his eyes to the floor bashfully. "The other volunteers and I were wondering if you would be willing to help us out again next year."

Donnie looked up with wide eyes and stared at the human, too dumbfounded to speak. When he finally found his voice again, he had to work it around an unexpected lump in his throat. "I would consider it an honor."

The human's small smile grew into a thankful grin. "Then I look forward to seeing you again. Do you need a ride home?"

The turtle laughed. "No, thank you, Thomas-san. I'll be fine."

"Alright. Thank you again. Have a good night and happy holidays," the human said with a chuckle before turning to go back to his duties.

"Happy holidays, Thomas-san" Donnie returned. Once he and Murakami were alone, Donnie murmured, "Thank you, Murakami-san."

"For what?" his old friend asked as he offered Donnie the duffel bag he was carrying.

"For convincing me to go through with this crazy idea," Donnie explained while shouldering the bag that contained his clothes, Master Splinter's tea, and the coloring books Murakami had given him earlier.

"You were the one who wished to come. I merely helped you find the means to do so," Murakami said with a soft chuckle.

"And if you hadn't, I would have just gone home…and never have known what I do now. So, thank you." His human companion bowed his head acceptingly. Donnie sighed as he looked around the now empty dining area. "This…this has been a night I'll never forget."

"That is how I often feel," the blind man agreed while he and the disguised turtle made their way to the service door.

"Would you like me to walk you home?"

"Thank you, my friend. But I will be taking Thomas-san's offer of a ride home. It, too, is something of a tradition."

"OK then. Stay safe, Murakami-san."

"You as well, Donatello-kun. And Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Donnie replied warmly before stepping out into the alleyway.

He waited until he heard the door behind him close to give his surroundings a quick glance. Once he'd confirmed that he was alone, Donnie jumped and flipped his way up the alley's walls until he landed on the roof of the building next to the shelter with the effortless grace of a cat. He walked over to the building's ledge so that he could gaze out at the skyline. Was it just him or was the city more beautiful now than it had been a few hours ago?

A crisp winter breeze kicked up and he closed his eyes as it washed over him. The fake beard of his costume tickled his nose, making him want to sneeze. Despite this, he didn't want to take the outfit off just yet. The Santa suit was warmer than his winter garb but, it was more than just that. "If I take it off," he thought even as he carefully pulled the beard free from his face, "it means that the night…that the moment…is truly over." He watched the beard's white curls dance in the wind. "I don't want it to be over. Not yet."

However, the get-up had an enormous downfall: it made him stand out like a sore thumb. As long as he wore it, he was a big, red bull's eye for the Foot Clan or anyone else that decided they wanted to pick a fight. Even though Donnie knew that he could take care of himself against any random Foot soldiers he might encounter, he was also intimately aware of how quickly a fight could turn for the worst. Keeping the outfit on wasn't worth courting such danger. He made a heavy sigh and looked around the roof for a spot that would provide him some cover while he changed.

The night was markedly less pleasant once he was in his typical winter outfit again. He braced himself against another gust that whipped past him, pushing down his hood and tousling his mask tails together on its way by. That was all the encouragement Donnie needed to get going. The mutant turtle pulled his hood up and, this time, tied it in place before beginning his trek across the rooftops.

He was about five blocks from his preferred entrance to the sewers when the wind kicked into high gear, forcing him to hunker down on a fire escape for refuge. Now he was really regretting his decision not to wear more layers. Of course, he hadn't expected to be out this late. His face stung and he noticed that the end of his nose was going numb. Donnie cupped his gloved hands over his face so that he could breathe into them to warm himself.

While he waited for the wind to stop howling long enough for him to make a break for it, a door in the alleyway below slammed open. Donnie bit back a startled yelp and pressed himself against the brick building to stay out of sight.

"I can't believe those jerks!" cried a voice from the alley.

Another, older sounding voice made a rasping chuckle, "What else can you expect from a bunch of a-holes?"

"How about them stayin' home if they're gonna spike the eggnog that much!?" was the first voice's snappish retort.

Donnie cautiously slid to the edge of the fire escape so he could peer down at the humans. He could tell from their clothes that they worked for the store he huddled against. The two of them lugged a long, unwieldy box between them.

"You're just pissed 'cause they messed up the one you were eyeballin'," the second voice's owner said with a smirk as he led them over to one of the store's dumpsters.

"You bet I am! Mr. Scofield said he'd give me sixty percent off whichever display I wanted at the end of the night. Sixty percent!" the younger employee continued. "Now it ain't even worth spendin' that." He stopped complaining to grunt as he and the older human hoisted the box into the dumpster.

Donatello watched the older man give the younger one a companionable pat on the back as they ducked inside the store, the younger one griping the whole way. He waited for a good five minutes after he heard the door below click shut before he dared to climb down and investigate what they had just thrown away. Other than being about six feet long, the cardboard box was fairly nondescript. There were no identifying pictures on the sides and the store code was one that Donnie wasn't familiar enough with to readily decipher. After a quick double-check of the door to make sure that he wasn't about to get company again, he reached into the dumpster to satisfy his curiosity.

He barely even touched one of the box's overlapped flaps and it sprang open as though something was about to burst out. Donnie let out an involuntary squeak and scuttled backward into a defensive stance. After several seconds had passed without anything leaping at him, a hot flush flooded over Donnie's face. "Some ninja," he muttered, quietly thankful that his brothers weren't around to see that. His wounded pride was almost enough to make him leave, but his inquisitiveness wouldn't let him. He just _had_ to know what was in there now!

Donnie carefully approached the dumpster again and craned his neck to peer inside the box. His eye ridges furrowed at what he saw. The box looked like it was stuffed with some sort of coniferous bush. No…that wasn't quite right. The way the light caught the leaves was off. He pulled off one of his gloves, reached into the box, and ran his hand over a branch. The prickle of the needles was all wrong. It was as if they were… _fake_?

He tried to pull out the branch so he could examine it further but encountered resistance. That was when he noticed that a wire had been wound around the branch, tying it to the rest of the false evergreen. All along the nearly invisible green wire were tiny, multicolored glass light bulbs. Donnie's eyes widened slightly before his eye ridges drew together again. "What on Earth happened to you for them to throw you away?" he asked the inanimate object.

As he dug deeper into the box, he noted that several of the branches were horribly disheveled and splayed in peculiar ways. It was as though someone had fallen or thrown themselves into the fabricated conifer. However, he could tell that the branches were meant to be manipulated. They could have easily been righted. Then, he found the real reason that the evergreen had been condemned to the dumpster.

The pole that served as the fake fir's trunk had been turned into a literal U-shape. Donnie also discovered that several of the hinges that were for connecting the branches to the trunk had been broken. The poor thing had taken quite a beating. It was kind of sad. Before it had been so abused, it was evident that it had been a pretty little tree.

He lifted one end of the pole to his ear and thumped a finger against it. The way it resonated with each tap gave him an idea of the kind of metal it was made of. Then he grabbed one end of the pole and carefully pulled. The metal resisted him for a few moments, proving how sturdy it actually was before it shifted only a few millimeters. With the right tools… "I can fix this," he breathed as he moved down the pole to examine the damaged hinges. His eyes drifted back to the dumpster and the treasure trove of written off merchandise it contained. They eventually settled on a piece of pink, glitter-covered tulle. As an idea grew in Donatello's mind, so did a broad smile on his face. "Perhaps…the moment doesn't have to be over just yet."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are at the last chapter! If you are reading this, thank you! Thank you so much for sticking with me! I hope that it has been worth it. I know how precious time is; trust me. I really do hope that you've been enjoying your time here so far. The B team definitely have a few moments in this chapter.
> 
> If you have enjoyed this little story, please don't forget to send some kudos, bookmark the story, and/or write me a comment. Knowing that you guys like what I've written makes all the time I spend writing worthwhile! It truly does! Thank you so much!

Michelangelo groaned sleepily as his eyes fluttered open for the day. A glance at his bedroom clock told him that it was almost seven in the morning. He made several, slow blinks as his groggy mind tried to process this information. Once it had, he surged out of bed as though it had turned into a fire pit.

He started throwing on his gear, thinking he was late for practice until he remembered that it was Christmas: one of the few days of the year that Splinter would let them skip morning practice. Mikey was usually such a morning person that he didn't need to take advantage of that sleep-in treat. Of course, considering how late he'd gone to bed, it was no wonder that he hadn't woken up at his usual time.

Once he'd tucked the triplets into bed for the night, Mikey returned to the living room so he could wait for Donatello to come home. He wanted to apologize for what had happened…for what he'd said. Not because he'd made Donnie mad. His genius brother got mad at him all the time. It was because of the sorrow that flickered over Donnie's face just before anger took over. Mikey hadn't seen that expression for nearly five years. He had dared to hope that he would _never_ see it again. Knowing that he'd been the one to pull that look out of Donnie after all this time hurt. And it made him realize just how stupid their fight had been.

When Leonardo and Raphael strolled into the lair at about midnight, they'd been surprised to find Mikey still up. Even more surprised to discover that Donnie was still out in that bitter cold. Leo immediately called their brother, worry tainting his normally composed voice and blue eyes. Donnie hadn't been answering Mikey's texts, so he was relieved when Leo reached their brainy brother just fine. He watched as the purple banded turtle managed to appease their blue clad leader. Once the call ended, Leo told them that Donnie was safe and on his way home.

Mikey was all set to meet Donnie halfway, but his eldest brother took one look at his bloodshot eyes and herded him off to bed. Once there, he stubbornly took his time getting undressed. He hoped to catch Donnie walking down the hallway. Even after he'd crawled into bed, he lay there, listening…straining for some sign that the other half of the B team was home safe. Exhaustion eventually won out and pulled his heavy eyelids shut, guiding him into dreamland. Now that he was all rested, Mikey planned to make his genius brother a cup of coffee and stalk his bedroom until the tall turtle made his appearance for the day.

He had just finished wrapping his feet when there was a knock at his bedroom door. Before he could acknowledge his visitor, the door opened to reveal both Leonardo and Raphael on the other side. "Morning, dudes," Michelangelo said with a merry grin. His cheerfulness fell the moment he saw the stress in Leo's eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Have you seen Donatello yet?" Leo asked, trying to keep his unease from reaching his voice.

Mikey's eyes widened and he rushed to his feet. "He's not in his room!?"

Leo shook his head and Mikey could see his brother's concern starting to grow. "I just checked. The kids are the only ones in there." The eldest of the four brothers shook his head and crushed his eyes closed. "I should have waited up for him."

Raph rested a hand on Leo's shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze, quieting the other turtle. "Slow your roll, Leo. I'm sure he's fine." He waited for Leo to swallow down his building dread before continuing. "Look, I'll go check the lab. Knowing Donnie, he probably fell asleep while he was tinkering with something." Once Leo gave him an acknowledging nod, Raph headed for the living room.

"Are the mini-Donnies up yet?" Mikey nervously asked as he finished tying his mask around his head and adjusted his belt.

"They're getting dressed right now," Leo answered with a distracted nod.

Mikey swallowed hard. If the worst had happened, the last thing he wanted was the triplets finding out that Donnie was missing before they had something to tell them.

" _What the-_ "

Raph's squawk barely had enough time to leave him before Leo was bolting down the hall towards him, his swords drawn. Meanwhile, Mikey began to tear his room apart in a frantic search for his nunchucks. Leo could see their red banded brother standing at the top of the bedroom hall stairs as he gawked out at the living room. When he looked past Raph to see what had the other turtle so shocked, his eyes went wide and he came to a sliding stop beside him. "Holy…" was all Leonardo managed to breath out before being caught up in the same awe as Raphael.

By the time Michelangelo got out of his room, both of his older brothers looked as though they'd been hit with some kind of stun ray. He charged over to them, gripped them by the shoulders, and started shaking them in a desperate attempt to snap them out of whatever held them. "Speak to me, bros!" Neither answered him, but Raph took hold of Mikey's arms and spun the youngest brother around so that they all faced the same way. Mikey felt his eyes become the size of dinner plates. "Whoa!"

Gold and silver tinsel along with twinkling multicolored lights coiled their way up the spiral staircase above the living room pit. More lights were woven around the support pillar in the middle of the turnstiles and spread out from there to adorn the lair's main exit. Each of the turnstiles' arms were wrapped in more tinsel, only this time the colors were red and green. Smaller, but no less colorful lights trimmed the half circles of the dojo, the living room pit itself, and the workshop's entrance. The practice dummy had been stripped of its usual Shredder guise and instead wore a full Santa suit, complete with an enormous white beard.

In the corner of the living room, just between the workshop's steps and the main exit, sat the final touch to the festive bomb that had struck the lair: a six-foot tall tree that flickered with a kaleidoscope of lights. From its branches hung an odd assortment of traditional glass ball ornaments, origami animals and flowers, and stars that looked like they'd been cut out of soda cans. Underneath the tree's lowest branches sat a modest collection of boxes wrapped in newspaper.

"Dudes," Mikey whispered in hushed awe. He turned to look at his older brothers with sparkling eyes. "We've got elves!" He yelped in pain and gripped his head as Raph smacked him.

"There's no such thing!" the red clad turtle growled.

"Then where did all this stuff come from? Huh?!"

Raph opened his mouth but ended up struggling for a response. He was just about to slap Mikey again when the heavy metal doors to the workshop clattered open.

"Well! Good morning, sleepyheads!" a familiar voice lilted. The three turtles looked to find their missing brother walking down his workshop's staircase with another newspaper-wrapped box in his hands.

The annoyance on Raph's face vanished. "Donnie!"

"I was beginning to think you guys had gone into torpor," Donatello teased as he put the box under the tree before making his way over to his brothers. "Seriously, I expected to see you two hours ago!" he continued while pointing at Leo.

A flush colored the blue banded turtle's face. "Well, I, um," Leo stammered as he, Raph, and Mikey moved to meet Donnie at the bottom of the steps. "I decided to meditate in my room for a bit before coming out."

"Ahhh, that certainly explains it."

Leo cleared his throat and tried to ignore the smirk on Raph's face. The brawny turtle was clearly enjoying an 'I told you so' moment at his expense. "So…you-you've been out here this whole time?"

"Since I got home."

Leo nodded acceptingly, still feeling pretty foolish for getting all worked up over nothing before his eyes snapped back to Donnie. "Wait. You've been up all night?!"

"Never would've finished getting everything ready if I hadn't."

"How many cups of coffee have you had?" Leo demanded and reached out to push up Donnie's mask so he could see how bad the dark circles under his brother's eyes were. The genius' latest upgrade to the Shellraiser had been keeping him up late for the past several days. Now that Donnie had added an all-nighter to his sleep deprivation tally, Leo knew his little brother had to have them!

"Lost count, "Donnie chuckled while pulling his head out of range and gently deflecting Leo's hand. "Don't really care either."

"What is all this stuff?" Raph asked, heading Leo off before he could start fussing more at Donnie. The red clad turtle watched his purple banded brother half-lid his eyes while the smile on his face turned impish. He could tell that he only had a few seconds before Donnie let loose with some smart-mouthed answer. "I mean, aren't you the one who was worried that we would confuse the squirts by celebrating Christmas because Splinter is Shinto and, technically, so are we?"

The smile on Donnie's face fell to become something much more humble. He lifted a hand to rub the back his neck as he meekly asked, "I'm not allowed to change my mind?"

Raph fought the urge to sigh in exasperation. "Of course you are, Don. I was just-"

"WHOA!" The turtle brothers looked up the bedroom stairs. At the very top stood the three youngest members of the family. Their eyes were wide with wonder.

"Where did all of this come from?" Hikaru asked in awe.

"It's so pretty!" Lewis exclaimed and clasped his hands in front of him while looking all around as though he didn't know what to focus on.

Donnie broadly grinned as he proclaimed, "Merry Christmas!"

"Christmas?" Kaiya asked as she and her siblings descended the stairs. "But isn't that a Christian holiday?"

"You're quite right," Donnie started as he squatted down before settling onto his knees so that he could be more at eye level with them. "However, just because a holiday is of a particular faith, it doesn't mean that we can't celebrate the ideals it stands for."

"What kind of ideals?" his eldest asked.

"The one Christmas is most well known for generosity."

"But!" Lewis interrupted. He glanced at the tree and then turned his distraught eyes back to Donatello. "We don't have anything for you!" His sisters joined him in looking at their mother in dismay at the point he'd just made.

Donnie smiled gently at the three of them and pulled them close. "You don't have to worry about that. It's not like I gave any warning that I was going to do this. Besides," he nuzzled each of them in turn as he murmured, "I already have everything I could ever want."

When Donnie pulled back from them, he blinked rapidly in startled bewilderment. Instead of relaxing, his brood's downcast demeanor had hardened into obstinate determination. Even mild-mannered Lewis looked uncompromising. Once he'd gotten over his shock, he raised his hands in surrender. "Ok, ok. If it bothers you _that_ much, you can get me something later. Sound fair?" Their stern faces split into bright grins and they gleefully cuddled into him. He shook his head while making a light chuckle. "Alright then. Now, are you guys gonna check out what's under the tree or what?"

"YEAH!" the three of them cried before taking off for the other side of the living room.

As the children left, laughter broke out among Donatello's brothers, making the tallest turtle's face turn red. "I know you totally meant that sappy line of yours," Raphael started in-between laughs. "But when you were their age, you never would have accepted something like that from Splinter. What made you think they'd be fine with it?"

Donnie turned an even deeper crimson. "A constant and _severe_ miscalculation of just how much of my stubborn streak they've inherited," he answered sheepishly.

Raph shook his head amusedly before offering a hand to Donnie. "Speaking of that stubborn streak, think the next time you change your mind on something this big you can let _us_ in on it too? That way you don't have to do everything all by yourself."

Donnie grabbed Raph's hand and allowed his brother help him back to his feet. He then offered the other turtle a cheery smile. "I make no promises!"

Raph's eyes widened before they narrowed into slits. "Donnie," he started with a low growl.

"UNCLE RAPH!"

The red banded turtle forced himself to rein in his temper, though it was obvious that he planned on continuing his rant at Donnie once he found out what his little niece wanted. "What's up, pipsqueak?"

"There's something for you under here!" Hikaru enthusiastically called to him.

Raph snapped his head towards her; his eyes were wide. "What?!"

"You too, Uncle Leonardo and Uncle Michelangelo," Kaiya added as she and Lewis held up a couple of boxes for emphasis.

The red, blue, and orange clad turtles stared in stunned disbelief for several for seconds before they all turned to their purple clad brother. "What?" he asked them innocently.

"You didn't have to do this, Donnie," Leonardo said, concern for his overworked little brother creeping back into his voice.

"I wanted to," Donnie returned with a shrug. "And you know how I get when I want to do something."

"I swear I'm gonna get you back for this."

"Yeah, yeah," Donnie dared to wave off Raph's threat while giving him a knowing smile. "Just keep in mind that I haven't had a chance to fix the Stealth Bike after your last little joyride." Raph's jaw hung open for half a second before he closed it so that he could growl irritably at Donnie. Then the stouter turtle turned to go over to the Christmas tree while mumbling something under his breath. "Language," Donnie sternly called after him. "Little ears hear better than you realize."

Leo started to follow Raph, but he stopped short. He turned to Donnie so he could give the taller turtle a meaningful look.

The purple clad genius made a soft sigh at his eldest brother's piercing gaze and raised a hand in an appeasing gesture. "I promise to stick close to the couch," he tried to reassure his leader. "That way, when the caffeine crash finally hits me, I'll fall face first onto it instead of the floor." He could tell by Leo's frown that the other turtle didn't quite appreciate his little joke. However, instead of insisting that Donatello go to bed, Leonardo made a resigned sigh before giving him a single nod.

Donnie blinked in surprise as he watched Leo walk over to the tree. When the children greeted their blue clad uncle by swarming him until he sat down, Donnie had to chuckle. The fact that didn't get an earful from Leo for pushing himself too hard was a Christmas miracle all on its own. A contented smile settled onto his face as he watched his family until he noticed that the group surrounding the tree was one short. He grunted and staggered a bit when Mikey tackled him.

"Dude, I was so worried about you! I sent you like thirty texts, but you never got back to me!"

"You did?" Donnie asked, the surprise in his voice obvious. He squirmed in Mikey's iron grasp until he'd managed to get his T-phone out of his belt. Donnie's eye ridges shot straight up when he saw how many messages waited for him on his phone. Normally, Mikey was the king of hyperbole, but it looked like he'd underestimated himself this time. "Oh wow! I…um…sorry about that Mikey. I had no idea!" His little brother looked up at him through narrowed eyes. "I'm serious! See?" He showed his T-phone to Mikey. "I had it on silent mode all night. It doesn't even vibrate when it's set to that."

"Then how come you answered Leo's call?" Mikey pouted as he let Donnie go.

"I happened to be using it as a flashlight at that moment," Donnie replied with a helpless shrug. "Leo's picture flashed up on the screen so, of course, I answered."

"You mean...you _weren't_ ignoring me?"

"Not on purpose," he consoled his little brother. "I just couldn't safely use the phone where I was."

"Dude," Mikey said, his eyes blinking rapidly. "Where the heck were you?"

Donnie chuckled at his brother's wide eyes. "Nowhere like what you're imagining. Come on. We're missing all the fun."

"Hold up a sec, bro," Mikey said as he grabbed Donnie's arm and pulled his brother to a stop. Donnie looked over his shoulder, his eye ridges drawing together in confusion. "I wanted to say that I'm…sorry about last night."

A gentle smile smoothed the taller turtle's features and he waved off the apology. "Water under the bridge, Mikey."

"Nuh-uh, not under _my_ bridge!" the youngest brother protested. Donnie's eyes widened at this. He turned around so that he was facing Mikey once more. Even though he'd wanted to talk about this all night, now that he had his older brother in front of him Mikey found himself awkwardly grasping for what to say. "I know how much you don't like hiding things from the Mini-Donnies," he started. "And that there are some things that...that you just have to. Things that they're too little to know about right now…and things that you're still not sure you ever want them to know." A trace of the sorrow Mikey had seen on his brother's face last night trickled back, making the other turtle swallow and lower his eyes to their feet. Obviously what Mikey had said hurt more than his brother wanted to let on.

"It wasn't cool of me to use that against you." Mikey brought his hand up to rub at the back of his neck. "I shouldn't have gotten so mad at you over something as silly as Santa Claus." Then he closed the gap between them so he could use his shorter height to make his tallest brother meet his eyes again. "You're an awesome parent, Donnie. I'm sorry I said that you weren't."

Donnie blinked a couple of times before he gave his little brother a bashful smile. "I'm _far_ from an 'awesome parent,' Mikey. But, thank you." Then he smoothed his hand over his own head as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Honestly, I owe you an apology too."

"Really?" His brother nodded even as his smile got a little bigger at the astonishment written all over Mikey's face. "Why?" The shorter turtle then pointed at his brother in warning. "It better not be because you snapped at me. I said 'pretty please with anchovies on top' for that one."

The tall turtle laughed and shook his head. "No, not at all."

"Then what for?"

Donatello glanced to the side briefly and brought his hand up to rub at the upper part of his other arm as he became self-conscious all over again. "For underestimating the value of believing in Santa Claus."

Michelangelo jerked his head back as though the other turtle had just grown a second head right before his eyes. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Donnie murmured. "I've..." He paused to sigh heavily before continuing, almost sounding ashamed as he did so, "...I've always thought of Santa Claus as a way for parents to bribe, even blackmail, good behavior out of their children, at best. And a marketing ploy for businesses to manipulate their customers into spending more money than they should, at worst." His eyes slide closed. "But last night I learned that, while he may be those things, he's also something else. Something far more important."

Mikey stared at Donnie as he spoke. It wasn't every day that his genius brother admitted to being wrong about something. After Donnie trailed off, he waited with bated breath for him to continue. When he didn't, Mikey whispered as though they were sharing some big secret. "So…what is he, dude? What is Santa Claus?"

A delighted squeal startled the two turtles and pulled their attention over to the rest of the family. Hikaru had just finished opening her present and discovered that it was a ballerina costume, complete with fairy wings and a glittery pink tutu. Mikey chuckled when his little niece couldn't put the outfit on fast enough.

Donnie tenderly smiled while he watched their family and then softly stated, "He's Hope." Mikey blinked as he tried to process what Donnie had just said before staring up at his big brother with his mouth hanging open. "And Heaven knows we could all use a little more of that," he continued as he turned to look down at his dumbfounded baby brother. It made his gentle smile grow until the gap in his teeth was visible. He put an arm around Mikey's shoulders and pulled him close to his side. "Come on, little bro. Let's get over to the tree before we miss everything."

Mikey continued to stare at his brother as the taller turtle moved away to join the family. He watched his nieces and nephew crowd around their mother. Donnie chuckled as he plunked himself down on the floor and hugged his children close so he could lovingly nuzzle each of them in turn. Then Kaiya knelt on Donnie's right and Hikaru on his left. Lewis beamed in delight before immediately clambering into his mother's lap. Donnie chuckled, hugged the boy close with one arm, and then used his free hand to vigorously tickle his son.

Lewis' laughter helped Mikey finally shake off his astonishment. Ever so slowly, a broad smile spread across the orange banded turtle's face. He didn't know what made Donnie change his mind so drastically, but this take on Santa Claus was something he could totally get behind! Of course, Mikey had always felt that a certain big brother was the embodiment of hope. His grin got even bigger as an idea popped into his head.

Mikey jogged over to the practice dummy. He snagged the Santa hat off its head and then he bolted over to where Donnie sat. Donnie never saw him coming. The purple clad turtle let out a startled squeak when his impish little brother shoved the hat onto his head so far that it covered his eyes. His mischief complete, the smaller turtle chuckled while he leapfrogged over his tall brother.

Everyone else stared at Donnie in stunned silence as he struggled to pull the hat off. Suddenly, Raph made a snorting sound before bursting out laughing. Soon the whole family was laughing. Well, everyone but Donnie.

The moment he had worked the hat up enough so that he could see again, Donnie shot his little brother an annoyed glare. "The heck, Mikey!"

Mikey folded his hands together and put them behind his head. His enormous grin never left his face as he said, "Santa Claus needs his hat, bro!" His little brother's forthright answer took the wind out of Donnie's irritation and left him staring at the other turtle.

"Besides, Momma," Hikaru suddenly said. She stretched up so she could adjust her mother's hat. Donatello closed the eye closest to her to keep the hat's faux-fur trim from inadvertently poking him in the eye. "It suits you!" she announced with a grin.

Kaiya and Lewis both covered their mouths in an attempt to suppress their giggles even as they nodded in agreement with their sister. Meanwhile, Leonardo, Raphael, and Michelangelo enjoyed a good laugh at their brother's bewilderment. As he watched his beloved family, Donnie sighed and allowed his face to settle into his usual indulgent smile.


End file.
